Falling
by Parnopius
Summary: One shot,songfic. SS OC. Stands alone, but relates to characters & characters in my stories Fire Burns & Fallen Angel. AU in respect to Fallen Angel.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters from the books and the song lyrics are taken from 'Falling away with you' and belong to the ever wonderful Muse. Other than that, it's all mine. ;)

**Falling Away With You**  


**_I can't remember when it was good  
Moments of happiness elude  
Maybe I just misunderstood_**

"You want my help?"

The sapphire blue eyes gaze at him with an expression of deep set exasperation.

"Yes, Snape, I want your help."

"Why?"

One short exchange, and his life is turned upside down. He's suspicious of her, but then she hexes him and suspicion changes to admiration. No muggle knows spells like _that_. And he helps her, and she in turn helps him. As agreed.

Exactly when it stops being a mutually beneficial arrangement and turns into a friendship, he doesn't know. He just counts himself lucky that it does.

**_All of the love we left behind  
Watching the flashbacks intertwine  
Memories I will never find_**

"You're a tosser, Avery."

She's standing by the fireplace in the common room, bright blue eyes contemplating the blond boy in front of her with an air of infinite superiority. The boy arches an eyebrow, gazing coolly back.

"A tosser?"

"Yes, a complete and utter tosspot," she replies, and now he can see the mirth glinting in those brilliant eyes. Avery's usually impassive expression shifts, his lips twitching into a smile and the next instant she's laughing and Avery's smirking.

He watches them both from over the top of the newspaper and feels a tiny stab of pain that comes from the knowledge that he isn't the one making her laugh like that. She catches him looking and grins wickedly, before snatching up the book that lies on the table and tripping lightly up the stairs to her dormitory.

It isn't fair.

None of his other friends make his heart skip a beat when they smile at him.

_**So I'll love whatever you become  
And forget the reckless things we've done  
**_

He follows her when she slips unnoticed out of the common room. It's gone eleven, and she's been acting strangely all week. Once or twice she glances behind her, but he doesn't think she knows he's there. She's just being cautious.

He's confused when she stops outside the door to the Hospital Wing, but slips his hand between the doors to stop them closing completely as she disappears inside, and sidles in after her, knowing he's playing a dangerous game. If she notices him, she's going to flip. She's been doing that a lot lately.

He ducks behind one of the curtains that separates the beds, and watches her curiously. She's heading for a bed in the far corner and as soon as she's behind it, he follows, quieter than a mouse. She's not the only one who's used to sneaking around unseen.

He stops when he hears her voice, low and... is she crying? He hasn't been able to see her face in the dark of the corridors.

"Rem?"

There's a rustle of sheets and a start of surprise. He frowns; what's Lupin doing in the Hospital Wing? And more to the point, what's she doing visiting him? But his thoughts are interrupted as the boy speaks, sounding slightly wary.

"Hey." There is a pause, and Severus thinks he can hear Lupin sit up. "Why – hey, what's wrong?"

"I-" Her voice falters, and it's all he can do not to push though the thin sheet between them and take her in his arms. But he doesn't. She wouldn't let him anyway. "Rem, I...I'm sorry."

"For what?" He thinks the voice is a little softer now – more compassionate.

"Everything." She is crying now. "I never meant to do it and now I'm in too deep and I can't cope and Dad keeps-" Her voice cracks and he hears Lupin shift and the creak of bed springs that mean she's sat down next to him.

He leans against the cold stone of the wall, listening silently to her pouring her heart out and wonders how long she's been this close to Lupin. And how he missed it.

It turns out she's a Death Eater, but the way she's describing it, it's nothing like what Lucius has told him. It sounds dark and evil and terrifying.

He wants to go to her, be there for her, like Lupin is, but he knows she'll never forgive him if she finds out he's been eavesdropping.

And somehow, he doesn't think he could make half as good a job of comforting her as Lupin is, so with one last look at the white curtain, he slips away, back to the safety of his dormitory and isn't surprised when, at breakfast the next morning, she smiles for the first time in months.

_I think our lives have just begun  
I think our lives have just begun  
_  
_"Doesn't matter? You've just made the biggest commitment you're ever likely to make in your entire life and it doesn't matter? We're supposed to be friends, Severus. When did you stop trusting me?"_

_"Right about the time you decided to trust Black."_

He doesn't mean it; it just slips out and he would willing give anything and everything in his possession to take it back, but he can't. He can only watch hopelessly as the insult hit it's target and those sapphire eyes he's grown to love so much stare at him with something like shock.

And hurt.

Hurt that he's caused.

Then she brakes eye contact and speaks softly the words that will one day come back to haunt him.

_"I don't need another coward in my life."_

He stands staring at the dark staircase long after she's left, feeling nothing but the emptiness she's left in her wake. He could still tell her; could still run after her – one foot on those stairs would bring her sliding back to him.

But he doesn't.

He remembers her words. She said Black made her laugh – something he's never truly been able to do – not really. She's smiled at him plenty of times, and laughed at his observations, but he's never intentionally made her laugh. Not once.

And he can't condemn her to a life of misery. So he does the one thing he promised never to do.

He lets her go.

Because if he holds on, they'll both crash and burn, and she deserves to fly.

_**And I feel my world crumbling  
I feel my life crumbling  
**_

It's two years till he sees her again, _really_ sees her. He's caught glimpses of course – at meetings, at parties, at raids. Sometimes he fancies those extraordinary eyes of her linger on him for a few seconds more than they should, but it's only a fancy, not a reality.

He's in Diagon Alley when he runs into her. In every sense of the word.

This time her eyes do linger on him, but with a slight look of confusion. She doesn't recognise him – she shouldn't do – he's taken Polyjuice potion – but there's a certain something in her gaze that tells him she knows everything's not quite what it seems. She always was clever – it just took everyone a little while to figure that out.

Then she smiles and helps him pick up the books that their collision has made him drop. He thanks her and in the slightly awkward pause that follows he comes so close to telling her everything, regardless of the consequences, but then _he_ appears, with his glossy black hair falling into his dark eyes, smiling that disarming smile that used to make the female population of Hogwarts swoon, and she grins and kisses him on the cheek as he slips his arms around her waist.

She is happy.

And he can't destroy that.

He won't.

Somehow he manages to mumble another few words of thanks and hurry off into the crowd, even though fire is coursing through his veins and all he wants to do is beat seven kinds of hell out of the smug git who's managed to steal his last ray of sunlight without even knowing it.

He drops the books off at Malfoy's and apparates back home to the self-refilling bottle that he's taken to keeping whiskey in. She wouldn't approve, he knows, but that doesn't stop him.

She doesn't know.

And it's only in his dreams that she cares.

_**I feel my soul crumbling away  
And falling away  
Falling away with you  
**_

_Life imprisonment._

The words echo around the hall, reverberating in his head long after the whispers and mutters drown them out. He hears someone grumbling discontentedly that it wasn't the death penalty, but doesn't look around. He can't tear his gaze away from the black haired figure sitting so languidly in that chair far below him.

From the way she's acting, you'd think she was almost pleased to be going. She certainly hasn't put up much of a fight – quite the opposite. She's spilled everything, every tiny little detail of every mission she's even been on, every person she's ever killed.

He thinks she's up to something, but doesn't know what. She's been out of his life for too long for him to figure that out. So instead he thinks he's crazy – no one would purposefully get sent to Azkaban. Not even her.

A voice behind him speaks softly.

"She loves you, you know."

He turns and finds himself staring into deep, brown eyes. Nicola Meliflua. He hasn't seen her since they left school – just over five years ago. He doesn't ask what she's doing here – it's pretty obvious.

"Avery's here," she says, nodding in the direction of the blond man, and Severus looks and sees Cassandra next to him. By some coincidence – he isn't yet sure if it's lucky or unlucky – she turns her head as he glances at her, and their eyes met for a second. She smiles, and nudges her husband, who also looks round.

Severus nods to him, then looks past his old friends and sees her being led away, through the polished oak doors and...he wonders.

Thinking back, he sees she was the glue that held the group together. When she broke away, they fell apart. He wonders if she knew that would happen. He wonders if she meant it to.

Nicola is following his gaze, and smiles softly in a way he's never seen her do before.

"You do know that you two are soulmates, don't you?"

He stares impassively at the oak doors, still wondering. How much had she wanted to protect them? Enough to split them up? He guesses he'll never know. He sighs, pulling his gaze away from the doors and trying to make himself believe that that was the last time he'll ever see her alive. Nicola is still watching him.

"Try telling her that."

She half smiles and shrugs, as though to say she tried. Then she makes her way down to join Robert and Cassandra. He doesn't follow. His own dark eyes have met a pair of pale blue ones in the stands opposite. They are studying him thoughtfully. He stares back, but finds he cannot hold their gaze for long.

His eye falls instead on a man in the front row, a man with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. He knows the eyes are hazel, even though he can't see them. The man's head is in his hands and he looks...broken.

He guesses he loved her too. A different sort of love, yes, but a kind of love all the same. He starts to think that maybe his isn't the only heart she broke.

_**Staying awake to chase a dream  
Tasting the air you're breathing in  
I know I won't forget a thing  
**_

_The Prophet_'s practically rejoicing.

He's on the brink of despair.

She's dead. How can that be?

She was only in there for three years. Azkaban's killed people before, he knows, but somehow he can't get himself to believe it took her. Not her. She was too strong – far too strong to die a quiet death in a hole like Azkaban.

Lucius says maybe she didn't have anything left worth living for.

Lucius says she's dead.

Lucius says he needs to let go.

Severus says no.

**_Promise to hold you close and pray  
Watching the fantasies decay  
Nothing will ever stay the same  
_**

_The Prophet_'s practically hysterical.

He is not surprised.

At least, he likes to think he's not. He knows he never really gave up hope, but after the first decade, he was starting to think that maybe the rest of the world had a point.

Now he knows better.

So he goes to her parent's old house, because he knows she will visit it at some point. She always was rather sentimental. He remembers he loved her for that.

He sits there for he doesn't know how long, but it pays off. The door opens and she's standing there, a black silhouette against the night sky.

Then she sees him, and runs.

Only this time, he runs after her.

There is a scuffle; he ends up worse off. No change there.

He's lying on the muddy bank, icy water soaking into his clothes, his own wand pointed at his throat and all he can do is stare up at her. He hasn't seen her in so long...

But now he really is getting wet, and tells her so. Her reaction, he must admit, isn't quite what he expected.

She recognises him and tries to run again, but he's already decided he's not letting her go. He catches her wrist and she winces; he's gripping her too tightly but he's not going to lose her again. They exchange banter; none of it means very much, but then she says something that sends him reeling.

The papers got it wrong. She hasn't just escaped from Azkaban – she's been out for years. He wonders if she came looking for Black, but the thought doesn't even seem to have occurred to her – she sets his mind at rest for moment, telling him she was after her father, but then he sees the ring.

Even in death, Black still comes between them.

It's not fair.

He tries to leave, but she follows him.

He wishes she hadn't; his flat has seen better days, although admittedly not much better and many years ago at that.

They talk, he persuades her not to kill Peter – hoping she wants to do it for Lupin's sake rather than Black's and then she's staring at him disbelievingly when he mentions Black's escape. He thinks she would have gone back to him if she'd known; Black always wins.

And now she's playing stupid, but he doesn't buy it. Even after this long he can still tell when she's lying and now he thinks she's not telling everything she knows.

He thinks there's a lot to hide.

He wonders how much.

Then the Dark Mark is burning on his arm and she's looking at him with those remarkable eyes again.

She asks if he'll tell on her.

He thinks no.

He says he'll see.

And then she's threatening Peter and the small man is squeaking with fear and disapparating as fast as he can, and with one last look into those impossibly blue eyes, he follows him.

_**All of the love we threw away  
All of the hopes we cherished fade**_

Bella's mad at him for some reason, and he's pretty sure it's got something to do with her, but it isn't till she leaves that he's sure. He turns around, and she's sitting there on the floor, glaring up at him with stony blue eyes.

She's found out.

He wonders who told her.

They argue, and he tries to remember how he survived without her – without this – but then she says he broke her heart and his world is knocked off its axis for the second time that week.

She left him and she's saying he broke _her_ heart?

And then there's a noise behind them and he turns to see who it is, but no one's there. Too late, he turns back.

She's gone.

Not for the first time.

_**Making the same mistakes again  
Making the same mistakes again  
**_

A month later they're both living in the same house – Nicola is remarkably accommodating for two wanted criminals, considering she's the Head Secretary in the Department of Law and Order.

He's lying on a sofa in the lounge. She's been missing for almost a week now – Avery says she's working, but he knows differently. He always was the better Legilimens. The sound of a piano is infused in his thoughts as he lies there, then he realises who must be playing it and has to stop himself from jumping to feet and running to meet her.

She greets him coolly, and he wonders if she's been crying. She says the song is called _Ange déchu_. He knows enough French to translate that: _Fallen Angel_.

Black wrote it.

He wonders why she didn't add that it was written for her, but then she snaps at him and he tries not to retaliate but old habits die hard. He manages not to shout and retreats at length.

He has a feeling he picked a bad time.

He wonders if there will ever be a good one.

_**I can feel my world crumbling  
I can feel my life crumbling  
I can feel my soul crumbling away**  
_

She's up to something. He can see it in her eyes and the way she smiles at him. Nothing to hide, she says. Nothing to worry about.

He never stops worrying; not when she's acting like this. She was always crazy - even before Azkaban she was crazy, but it was the kind of crazy he could understand. It came from not knowing – not knowing what tomorrow held, not knowing how long you had, how much time was left before someone caught up with you. And in those days, everyone was out to get her. They still are.

But that reckless fear burnt itself out long ago and what's left terrifies him more, because this madness has method to it. She's planning something.

He hopes she knows what she's doing.

He worries that she does.

_**And falling away  
Falling away with you**_

He's half asleep when there's knock on the door and lies still for a moment, wondering if he imagined it, but then a soft voice calls his name and he sits up, wand in hand.

It's been a month since the Dark Lord fell, and in that time he's seen no one. A different room every night, and no contact with anyone. The only way to stay safe. He knows he can't keep it up much longer, and wonders if it's the Aurors at the door. Then he remembers the voice and decides the Aurors aren't that clever.

The knock sounds again and he gets up, walking cautiously over to the door.

One look through the spy hole of the motel door tells him it's her. He opens it and she smiles.

"Evening."

He stares at her for a moment, wondering if he's imagining things – why is she here? He thought they all agreed to split up so the Aurors couldn't find them.

"What are you doing here?" he asks when his voice returns.

"I needed to see you," she says quietly. He raises an eyebrow, and she smiles softly. "I just…I wanted you to know that I know why you did it, and…and that I think it's the bravest thing I've ever known anyone to do."

He stares at her again, this time utterly perplexed. "What?"

"Dumbledore," she says, and now there's hint of sadness in those brilliant eyes. "I figured it out. I know it must have been hard for you, and for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

"What's there to be proud of?" he asks, and now it's her turn to arch an eyebrow.

"Oh come off it, we both know you're the only one who could have done it. No one else would have been able to."

"And that makes me a good person?"

"I never said that," she answers, and he thinks she's suppressing a smile. "But you gave up everything for him."

"I didn't have that much left," he says, and her eyes flicker for a moment with something like guilt.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly after a moments pause, and he frowns.

"For what?"

"I didn't want you getting hurt, but I think I just caused you more pain by not saying anything," she says, gazing at him with eyes that are overly bright with unshed tears.

"What? What didn't you tell me?" he asks cautiously, wondering where exactly this conversation is heading.

"Everything," she shrugs. "About Remus, about the Death Eaters, about Azkaban, the Horcruxes, how I felt…" She breaks off, taking a deep breath and he asks quietly:

"How you felt?"

She smiles wryly, though he can tell she's on the verge of tears.

"You know, I think Nic was right – you really are quite slow on the uptake, aren't you?"

"But you said I broke your heart," he says unsteadily, not daring to believe what she's saying.

"You did," she says with a small smile.

"And you loved Black."

"Yes."

"You got over me," he says, sounding almost accusatory. "You left and you forgot about me."

"I could never forget you," she says softly, but firmly. "And I never got over you."

"But Black-"

"Was gorgeous and fun and incredibly sexy, yes," she says, waving a hand as though to indicate this isn't important, even though she's just described what every girl seems to look for in a man – everything Black was and he isn't. "But he wasn't what I wanted. He wasn't _you_. Why'd you think Remus has always stopped short of hexing you into oblivion every time he sees you – because believe me, he despises you ever since the Dumbledore incident – it's because he knows how much you mean to me."

He just stares at her as she finishes, feeling his world swaying precariously on it's axis, about to come crashing down at any second. He casts about for something solid to hold onto, some fragment of sense in this realm of madness.

"But you loved Black," he says. He is sure of this. She just said it. She sighs, running a hand through her glossy black hair.

"Not like I love you."

He looks up sharply, staring intensely at her and she smiles, reaching out a hand to run one long finger down his cheek. He longs to say something back, tell her he feels exactly the same way, tell her he'll do anything she wants, but first, he has to know…

"Nicola once said you could…she said that Black only fell through the veil – she said you could get him back. Is that true?"

She frowns, studying him thoughtfully.

"Does it matter?"

"What?"

"Well I haven't, have I?" she says, gazing at him from under dark black lashes. "So I either can't, or I don't want to, or possibly both. Does it matter which?"

He meets her gaze and wonders if this is some sort of test. It certainly feels like it. He wonders what will happen if he fails it. He decides not to find out.

"No, it doesn't matter," he says, and she smiles.

"Then yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes I could get him out."

"You could?" He's actually gaping incredulously at her now. "With no side effects?"

"Depends. If he wanted to come back, there wouldn't be any, no. And I don't think he would have minded coming back, but…" She trails off. "Well, if I'm being honest, I couldn't put Remus through that – couldn't bring one of his best friends back only to have to watch him go through that same grief again when he dies for a second time. Sirius has been mourned – people move on. I did – I have."

She smiles, and this time there's a hint of Slytherin in it. "And if I'm completely and utterly honest, which, let's face it, doesn't happen very often, I'm not that cruel. What kind of fiancée would I be if I brought him back from the dead and ran off with someone else? At least this way everyone wins."

"Except him," he says softly, half wanting to point out that he hasn't said he loves her yet, but knowing she'd only laugh. She knows he adores her. She's always known.

She smiles, half sad, half happy. "He had his time. It's not my place to meddle with Fate."

"You believe in Fate?" he asks, almost laughing. "Next you'll be saying you believe in soulmates."

"No," she says, thoughtfully. "But I do think some people have certain qualities that make them perfect for one another. The odds on finding the exact match to you are a couple of million to one, though." She smirks leaning against the doorjamb and looking slyly at him. "But then Alastor always does say I have the luck of the devil."

"You found your match then?" he asks, and though his voice is as calm as ever, his heart's beating like a trip hammer and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close she's standing and how much he wants to close the gap and hold her in his arms, just like he had to stop himself doing all those years ago in the Hospital Wing.

"Looking at him," she grins, burnished eyes burning holes in his soul. He can't hide anything from her; he never could, not for long.

"I love you," he whispers, their faces just inches apart. Her grin widens, her eyes glinting playfully.

"Damn right you do," she says quietly, as the gap between them closes.

Some things never change.

He's grateful for that.

_**All of the love we've left behind  
Watching the flashbacks intertwine  
Memories I will never find  
Memories I will never find**_


End file.
